


The Bureau of Magical Complaints

by MagdaTheMagpie



Series: Marvel & Magic [66]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:53:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29509989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagdaTheMagpie/pseuds/MagdaTheMagpie
Summary: The Bureau of Magical Complaints' first complaint is about a butterbeer.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Hermione Granger
Series: Marvel & Magic [66]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1109643
Comments: 8
Kudos: 71
Collections: Marvelously Magical Bingo 2021





	The Bureau of Magical Complaints

**Author's Note:**

> Square O3: butterbeer
> 
> (Clint of course doesn't have a secret family and wife here)

The Statute of Secrecy fell and Hermione thought it would be a great thing for both the wizarding and muggle world, and it was… for some. For her part, instead of getting promoted to head the Department for Magical Creature like she had always wanted, she was shoved none too ceremoniously to head and develop the brand new Bureau for Magical Complaint, because she was a muggleborn and prejudice still ran rampant at the Ministry. True to herself, Hermione had got it running smoothly in no time, and now… well, she was just bored out of her mind. She recognized a dead end job when she saw one.

That evening however, fifteen minutes before closing time, a muggle finally walked in. Obviously a muggle. Not only because a witch or wizard would not be coming in to complain about magic, but also because of his clothes. No one in the wizarding world would be caught dead wearing that tight leather catsuit. It was very… form fitting. Besides, he had a bow in one hand instead of a wand, and a butterbeer in the other, which made no sense

"This isn't beer!' the man complained. "It's a biological hazard! I'm pretty sure it's  _ rancid _ ."

Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance. Count on her first complaint to be about a beer, but at least the guy wasn't drunk so she would count her blessings. Hermione took the offending drink and downed the bottle to prove a point, wiping her mouth of froth when she was done and setting the bottle back down with a resounding thud of emptiness.

"It's a  _ butterbeer _ ," she scoffed. "It's  _ supposed _ to have that buttery taste and be served warm."

"Wow, okay. Shouldn't be called a beer at all if you ask me. That's false advertising. But how about I take you out for a  _ real _ beer so you can tell the difference?"

"No," she replied immediately, barring all further discussion on the matter from the cocky American. "But I'll be happy to register your complaint."

She gave him a form to complete and pointed at the pot holding several Muggle ballpoint pens.

"Alright," he smirked, picking a pen that looked tiny in his hand. 

Hermione wondered if he would crush it with all those muscles. His arms were… impressive. A work of art. Hermione looked away from the magnificent arms when he handed the form back to her. Hermione glossed over it, only to realize that his complaint was now about the Bureau's pretty witch not accepting to go on a date with him.

"Well, Mr…" Hermione glanced at his name on top of the form. "Barton. Your complaint will be filed immediately," she added tearing the paper in two before dropping it in the bin. "Now, don't let me keep you from visiting the lovely town of Hogsmeade. You should see the lake. Take a swim maybe?"

Hermione's smile was as polite and professional as ever, but Barton narrowed his eyes at her.

"I heard there's a giant squid living in the lake. Isn't it dangerous?"

Hermione's smile widened. The squid was a sweetheart, but he would give this man a good fright for sure.

"Or you could go for a leisurely walk in the Forbidden Forest. It's lovely this time of the year," she offered with utmost innocence in her voice.

"The  _ Forbidden Forest _ ? Isn't it… I dunno… forbidden?"

"Depends on who you ask. Goodbye, Mr Barton."

  
  


The next day, Hermione could hardly believe it when the same guy walked in with a beer.

"Let me guess," she said before he vould come up with some nonsense or other. "It's warm and tastes funny?'

"See for yourself," Barton replied, pushing the bottle across the counter.

Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but took it and tasted a sip of it.

"It's fine, just as it's supposed to be."

"Huh," he said, taking the butterbeer back and drinking after her, making a face. "You sure?"

Hermione blinked at him, wondering what he was playing at, but she took the bottle to taste it again.

"Yes. I'm sure. It's fine."

"Oh, good, because I brought two," Barton grinned, brandishing another he took from Merlin only knew where.

He held his bottle up for a toast. Hermione couldn't help herself and laughed at the ridiculous situation. He reminded her a lot of the twins when they were still twins. George had never been the same since… but this man had genuinely made her laugh. A feat in itself.

"Alright, you win. Here's to stubbornness," she toasted, clinking the butt of their warm butterbeers together.

"Is it always so quiet here?" Barton asked when he realized no one else had walked in after him to interrupt them.

"You think a lot of muggles want to complain to a witch about witchcraft?" Hermione scoffed.

"Ah. Good point." He chuckled. "Maybe I should have thought of that."

"I doubt even the threat of a hex could stop you."

"Good thing I'm here to keep you company then," he replied with a wink.

"Who says I'm alone?" she teased so he wouldn't notice how his flirting was frazzling her.

Barton looked around, then back at her quizzically. Hermione smiled, leaned over the counter to whisper close to his ear.

" _ Ghosts. _ "

Barton shivered, eyes darting left and right. 

"Nah. I don't believe you," he said firmly, as if trying to convince himself.

Hermione wandlessly made the pot of pens float in the air between them.

"Nah… not seeing it. No such thing as ghosts," he insisted, shaking his head, but keeping his composure. It was cute.

"Why, Mr Barton. Are you being brave for me?" Hermione asked sweetly, still teasing him.

"Nah… I mean, yeah. Is it working? Because I might faint soon."

Hermione chuckled and dropped the pot, pens falling and rolling all over the floor, but she wandlessly and obviously spelled them to float back in place under Barton's gaze as realization dawned.

"You…  _ witch _ ," he breathed out.

"Guilty as charged. I'm closing up. Want to go grab a beer?"

After all, in for a penny...

"A real one? Or-"

Hermione smacked his arm and laughed, closing behind her with a wave of her wand.


End file.
